Crashed
by SUPRNTRAL LVR
Summary: Dean crashes... and Sam doesn't know what to do. What happens next? Set in early season 2 when Dean is trying to cope with his dad's death. Hurt!Dean and Angst!Sam. UPDATED!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I only own this story, not Supernatural or Sam and Dean!**

**This is just a random idea I had a few weeks ago and it hasn't gone away yet. I don't know what I'm going to do with this right now, maybe you guys could help me out with that! :) Its pretty short right now, but we'll see what happens. Enjoy!**

Sam ran so fast he thought his legs would fall apart. His muscles screamed in protest, his lungs begged for air, his heart hammered wildly in his chest. But he wouldn't stop. He couldn't stop. He almost wished he hadn't been listening to the radio. The words ran through his mind once more.

_"The cars appear to be a 1967 black chevrolet Impala and a silver Volvo C30 sport... the crash is completely blocking the road, backup needed to clear the traffic... one of the drivers is suspected to be dead, but ambulances have yet to confirm this... crash has occured on Highcliff Road... ambulances needed as soon as possible..."_

Sam shoved the words out of his mind and concentrated on running. He skidded around a corner and into Highcliff Road, thanking whatever god there was that their motel hadn't been to far away from it. The flashing blue and red lights of the ambulance and police cars dropped weird patterns over the tarmac. The police had put up striped tape to keep the small crowd that was gathering away. The people were blocking his view of the crash, but he could see a small curl of smoke rising towards the sky.

Sa sprinted forwards, pushing people out of the way to get through. A policeman reached out to stop him as he reached the tape, blocking his view.

"Sorry sir, you can't-"

"No, you don't..." Sam's voice trailed off as some of the policemen and paramedics moved aside, and he caught sight of the Impala. The driver's door had been taken off, clearly displaying the inside. Sam's voice rose sharply. "Its my brother. That's my _brother!"_

"Alright, sir, calm down," the policeman said, lifting up the tape and waving him under. "Try not to panic."

Sam felt a wild urge to laugh as he scrambled under the tape. _Try not to panic. _What the hell kind of advice was that? The policeman reached out to take his arm but he pushed him roughly away and strode forwards. A young female paramedic came to meet him, catching at his jacket to slow him down. She was speaking, but he couldn't even hear her. He pulled free and ducked around the group of policemen to get to the car. He froze as he caught sight of his brother close up for the first time.

The Impala had slammed straight into the Volvo's side, and the front of it had been crushed inwards. The bonnet was wrinkled and the windscreen had shattered, leaving grains of glass over everything. The seatbelt had snapped with the whiplash, and Dean was lying over the steering wheel, his face turned towards them. Blood matted his hair and glistened wetly on his face, running from somewhere on his forehead. More blood ran from the corner of his mouth in a thin trickle. For a moment, he wasn't Sam's older brother who wasn't scared of anything. He was another person in Sam's messed up life who was about to die.

"Dean!" Sam felt the shout rip from his lips as he reached the car, crouching down beside it. "Dean, can you hear me? Bro? C'mon, Dean..."

"Can someone get him out of here?" a paramedic crouching in the back of the car asked irrirtably. A second paramedic sitting in the passenger seat nodded, her hand feeling along the back of Dean's neck.

"Spine seems okay, right arm is crushed," he was murmuring. "Severe concussion, could be a skull fracture..."

The fact that Dean wasn't dead rushed through Sam before the other words followed. "Skull fracture?" he repeated, his voice strangely shrill. "But he'll be okay, right? You can fix him up, you can help-"

"Sir, please come away from the car," a policewoman said firmly, pulling him backwards. "They need to get him out and you'll get in their way."

Sam slowly obeyed her. She led him to one of the police vans and sat him down on the hood of the car.

"How?" he managed. "How did... why..."

"He was veering out into the other lane, almost hit someone else. He swerved too hard. Has your brother had a history of drinking?"

"What? No, he was just out... talking to some friends." Sam leant to the side to see the car. They were beginning to lift Dean carefully out, sliding him onto a stretcher. Blood covered all of his right side. "Holy shit... how the hell... what the..."

"Alright, you're obviously in a lot of shock right now. They're going to take him to Rosewood Hospital. Will you be riding in the ambulance?"

Sam nodded mutely.

**Okay, I know that this chapter was really short but I'm just trying out the idea at the moment. Don't even know whether I'll carry on or not, don't know if its good enough. Tell me what you think!**

**SUPRNTRAL LVR.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I only own this story, not Supernatural or Sam and Dean!**

**Thanks for all the reviews; it looks like some of you people out there want another chapter! I'm still not quite sure what I'm doing with this yet, so if you don't like it please tell me!**

_The blue flashing lights send shivers down my spine as I crouch in the bushes, and I flinch as each one passes over me. My clawed fingers dig into the damp soil, driving mud into my smooth black claws, and I snarl softly as a uniformed man passes close to my hiding place. He isn't sure if he's heard me or not, and he turns to flash his light over the bushes. I blink slowly as it skims over me, aware that my silvery eyes will reflect it and give me away if I don't. He doesn't notice me, and turns away, shaking his head slightly as if to shake off the awkward fear I seem to radiate. Still, I sink deeper into the darkness and turn my gaze back to the cars._

_More people in green uniforms are loading the hunter onto a stretcher. I see the blood on his tan skin, and my mouth automatically waters. I swallow down the saliva and watch as they strap him down, exchanging hurried words and anxious glances. He is unconscious, unable to hear them, and I feel a small rush of satisfaction. Serves him right for daring to... I look down at the blood glistening on my own forearm instead of finishing the thought, my mouth twisting in pain as I remember his knife biting into my skin. But he had been so intent on killing me that he had forgotten to watch his own back. Fool..._

_I turn my gaze to the taller man who is following the Hunter, his eyes wide with fear and worry. The emotions radiate from him as if a neon sign is flashing above his head. I cock my head, my nostrills flaring as the rich smell of his blood rushes in on me as the wind changes. My teeth bare instantly, and I tighten my grip on the ground beneath me to stop myself from launching myself right out into the crowd and attacking. Too many people. Too much of a risk. But he smelled so good... I tear myself away and turn slowly, growling quietly in remorse. I could get him later maybe. Maybe._

_The ambulance's engine rumbles into life and it tears past me, whipping up my hair. I scramble away from the road faster, snarling loudly as if I can scare the machine away. One thing was for sure: the Hunter couldn't live. If he told others of me, or if he recovered and attempted to hunt me again... I would just have to stop him before he tried either. And then maybe try the tall one... if he tasted as good as he smelt, things were looking up._

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Sam clenched his fists tightly, and then grabbed onto the wall of the machine as the ambulance swung to the side. The two paramedics who were working on Dean were talking to each other in fast, clipped voices and using words that Sam couldn't understand. One was attempting to strap up his arm while the other was trying to stop the blood flowing from his head with thick pads of gauze without causing any more damage. Sam watched, helpless, knowing that he would get in their way if he tried to go to his brother's side.

At that moment, Dean let out a weak gasp and lashed out with his left arm, catching one of the paramedics across the face. Throwing caution to the winds, Sam lurched forwards and grabbed his brother's hand. Dean's eyes slid sideways and held his brothers, wild and huge. He snatched at Sam's jacket sleeve, holding his wrist so hard that it hurt. Sam gripped him back.

"Dean? Dean, you're okay, we're taking you to a hospital. Calm down, okay?"

Dean stared up at him, his unfocused eyes flickering between Sam and nothingness. "Sam!" he gasped hoarsely. "Sam, you have to kill it. Its going to come for us, you have to..."

His voice trailed off and he moaned in pain, squeezing his eyes shut. Sam clenched his brother's wrist tightly, his mouth dry.

"Dean? Dean!"

Dean fought his eyes open again, his whole body trembling, agony flickering across his gaze. "S-Sa-am," he rasped, struggling to breathe. "Sam, you g-gotta... st-stop... i-it... s'gonna... kill... u-us..."

"Nothing's gonna kill us, Dean," Sam told him, hoping he sounded braver than he felt.

His heart was hammering wildly in his chest, pumping cold fear through his veins. He had never seen Dean like this before, never seen him so completely wild and terrified. Dean slumped back onto the stretcher, shuddering, and one of the paramedics pulled and oxygen mask over his nose and mouth.

"Step back, please, sir," she told him firmly, barely glancing at him.

Sam felt a lump rising in his throat. The thought of Dean suffering alone with two strangers... it tore him up.

"Can't... can't I just hold his hand?" he forced out.

The paramedic finally looked at him, and he caught a flash of pity in her expression. She nodded, and then turned back to Dean's arm. Sam tightened his grip on his brother's hand, his own fingers trembling slightly. Dean moaned softly and his eyes rolled backwards in his head, his eyelids fluttering shut. The paramedic paled.

"Reece, get back over here! He's not breathing properly, his body's going into shock."

Her partner returned to her side, eyeing Dean warily, touching a red patch on his cheek where Dean's flying fist had caught him. Sam moved away slightly to give them space, but kept a firm hold on his brother, even when Dean's hand slackened in his, a telltale sign that his brother had slipped into unconsciousness once more. His brain rushed over his brother's last few words, replaying them over and over as if that would help them make more sense.

_"You have to kill it... its going to come for us... you have to stop it..."_

"Stop what?" he whispered under his breath, his eyes fixed on Dean's bloodied face. "Dean, what the hell happened to you?"

**Okay, there goes another chapter. Review if you like it and I'll add another chapter. Hope you enjoyed it, sorry it was again quite short!**

**SUPRNTRAL LVR.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I only own this story, not Supernatural or Sam and Dean!**

Sam kept one hand on Dean's even as he reached into his pocket for his mobile to check if any of the police stations had called to tell him anything more about the accident. His brother was hooked up to a bunch of bleeping machines, and an oxygen mask was over his nose and mouth to make sure he kept breathing. At least he didn't have a tube stuck down his throat - the doctors had decided that there was no need to incubate since his neck had already been stressed with the whiplash.

The doctors had given Dean some heavy seditives to make him sleep, and Sam had been told that he was no longer feeling any pain. For now that was enough, but Sam wouldn't be truly comfortable until he looked down at Dean and saw his brother looking back with that usual cock-sure smirk. Dean's words in the ambulance had shaken him more than he had first thought, and they kept coming back at him relentlessly.

_"Its gonna come for us... __Sam, you gotta stop it..."_

Sam looked over Dean's lax face, unconsciously rubbing a thumb over his brother's hand. "What do you mean?" he murmured. "What's coming for us?"

At that moment the door to their room opened and Sam rose to his feet, automatically reaching for the gun in the waistband of his jeans. He managed to stop himself and transform the movement into tugging his jacket straight as a doctor moved into the room - being thrown out of the hospital for owning guns wasn't going to be a good move right now. The doctor lifted her head to look at Sam, and then moved over to Dean and checked the machines hooked up to him.

"I understand you're Mr. Grimsure's brother?"

"Yeah... uh, Ted Grimsure."

"Well, Ted, I'm Dr. Harrison and I've been assigned to your brother here. Have you spoken to the police yet?"

"Uh, briefly, they were more concerned about examining the crash," Sam replied, glancing distractedly at Dean.

"Okay. Well, there's no permanent damage but your brother has had a very big shock to his system. His right arm is broken in several places and he's taken a nasty blow to the head. Apparently he was also screaming and yelling nonsense in the ambulance on the way here, so if and when he wakes up we'll need to make sure there aren't any side effects."

Sam's brain had jammed halfway through the last sentence. "_If _he wakes up?"

"We've got him on seditives right now but people have been known to fall into comas after hitting their heads that hard."

Sam looked down at his brother, his stomach clenching stiffly. "But he'll be okay," he heard his own voice saying, strangely shrill. "He'll be fine, right?"

"I'm sure he will," she replied sympathetically. "I've boosted up his morphine a little more so he shouldn't be feeling any pain. I sugget you go home: he won't be waking up anytime soon."

Sam kept his eyes on Dean, his mouth set in a firm line. "I'm not going anywhere," he whispered.

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_I stand in the bushes behind the huge building, my eyes fixed on one window on the fourth floor. I know that the hunter is in there, I can taste his smell strong as his dried blood on my lips. I want to go in there now, but I know the tall man is in there too and although I am eager to sink my teeth into him I know that he will be ready for trouble. I will wait for a few hours, see if maybe he lets his guard down. He seems shaken by the crash - he may be slower than normal.  
_

_I move slowly forwards until I can place both clawed hands on the wall, my head tilted back, my nostrills flaring. God, all I want is to crawl up there and just... I bite my lip, restraining myself. I had to be patient. I had to wait._

_But I would have him. Soon._

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Dean felt as if he were lying deep under the sea, but somehow breathing.

His whole body was leaden, unbearably heavy, dragging him downwards. He could hear his own slow, shallow breaths in his head, loud as fire bellows. His heart was beating slow and steady, but every so often it stumbled over its own thudding. His eyes were glued shut, and he could hear muffled voices as if from beyond the surface of the sea he was lying in, but he couldn't understand them. He recognized one as Sam... why wasn't Sam with him?

Wincing, Dean tried to pull his eyes open but his lids wouldn't budge. What the hell had even happened to him? The last thing he remembered was chasing her down the highway, the Impala's wheels shrieking as he slammed on the brakes at the sight of the other car speeding towards him...

_Shit, she'll be looking for me... gotta tell Sam..._

He tried to speak but his tongue had swollen to fill his entire mouth. He tried to pull himself out of the sea but he couldn't move his own limbs.

_No, no, no... please no... gotta warn Sam..._

And he still couldn't move.

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Sam closed his eyes and rubbed his hands over his face. He let his hands fall and looked down at Dean, who's face was twitching a little, free of the oxygen mask now. He had started making small, barely noticable jerks a few minutes ago, but the nurse who had come in to check on him had assured Sam that it was just the morphine wearing off a little. Sam rose to his feet and crossed to the window and looked down at the dark bushes outside, sighing.

He had no idea what to do about whatever Dean had been hunting. He had considered going to search for any tracks whatever it was might have left, but he couldn't leave Dean when he was so helpless. If someone was going to come after them, Dean wasn't going to be able to defend himself and Sam would have to fight for both of them.

His eyes scanned the darkness, picking out wavering leaves and branches. The moonlight seemed to reflect off something silver, but when he looked again it was gone. Still, he put a hand behind his back to check that his gun was still there and ready. There was no way he could let himself be caught off guard tonight, no matter what.

"S'mmn..."

Sam turned sharply, his heart jerking at the small, weak sound from behind him. "Dean?" he asked cautiously, moving forwards to Dean's side. Dean's brow furrowed slightly, and he turned his head towards Sam.

"S'mmy... s'cummn..."

"Its okay, Dean, we're at the hospital," Sam assured his brother, his brain going over Dean's mumbled, incohrent words. He reached down at took his brother's hand, but Dean didn't squeeze back.

"S'mmn... g'st... op..."

"Stop?" Sam whispered, crouching down to his brother's level. "Dean, tell me what I have to stop. Tell me what you were hunting."

Dean twitched again, his eyes moving behind his eyelids. Then he went still once more, his head lolling to the side. Sam held his hand, softly calling his name for a few more moments but he didn't respond. Sighing, Sam rose to his feet again, raking his fingers through his hair.

Last night hadn't been all that clear to him. He had been looking forwards to a night in: nothing supernatural had caught his eye in the papers. And then Dean had gone out to fetch them some beers and food, telling him that he should listen in on the police scanner for a while just to make sure. Sullenly agreeing, Sam had settled in to wait.

And then, less than half an hour later, he had been listening to a report of the Impala crashing only a few streets away.

Sam rubbed his face again, and then moved away from the bed and over to the window again. He still had no idea what they were hunting.

He would just have to wait and find out.

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_I watch as the tall man moves to the window, and am so enthralled by the sweet, rich smell that rushes in on me that I crouch stunned for a moment too long before pulling back into the undergrowth. The smell calls to me, and I close my eyes and drink it in. Then, abruptly, I decide._

_I have waited long enough by now._

_And I am hungry... so, so hungry..._

_Growling softly, I move forwards and begin to search for a way in so that I can once again become the hunter instead of the hunted._

**Okay, there goes another chapter. Hope you guys enjoyed it! Please, please, please review!**

**SUPRNTRAL LVR.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I only own this story, not Supernatural or Sam and Dean!**

_In the last chapter..._

_I watch as the tall man moves to the window, and am so enthralled by the sweet, rich smell that rushes in on me that I crouch stunned for a moment too long before pulling back into the undergrowth. The smell calls to me, and I close my eyes and drink it in. Then, abruptly, I decide._

_I have waited long enough by now._

_And I am hungry... so, so hungry..._

_Growling softly, I move forwards and begin to search for a way in so that I can once again become the hunter instead of the hunted._

_Now..._

Sam rubbed his aching eyes, and then glanced up as Dean mumbled something incoherent and jerked his head to one side. He laid one hand on his brother's forehead trying not to hear Dean's small whimpers at the contact. He didn't think his brother had a temperature, so it couldn't be an infection. Most likely it was just the seditives confusing him.

"S'mn... gotta g't out..."

"I know, Dean, I'm watching your back," Sam assured him softly. "Its okay."

Despite the fact that he knew that they were safe in the hospital - like a zombie was going to come running in through the door and attack them here - Dean's mutterings were setting him on edge. He had never seen Dean so scared and panicked before, and it was freaking him out. But he couldn't let Dean know that, he had to stay strong for him. He was the one in charge now.

Sighing, Sam moved his hand down to Dean's shoulder and squeezed him awkwardly before returning to the window. Back to thinking about what the hell Dean had been doing out there...

Okay, so he had gone out at around seven.

From their motel room it took pretty much no time at all to get to the diner a few streets away, especially by car. So that left Dean with at least twenty minutes to have found the mysterious 'it' he kept talking about and fight it long enough to have to chase it down the road so fast that he endangered his own life.

Not that it wasn't like Dean to be reckless.

But still, to get that into a hunt in so little time, and to not have called Sam for back up... unless it was something which he thought he could handle despite the fact that he had no weapons, no journal, no nothing. So, like a ghost? But you needed rock salt or iron.

"Dean, why didn't you just call me?" Sam moaned, rubbing his hands over his face.

The lights overhead flickered, and Sam looked up sharply, his nerves instantly on edge. The lights flickered again, and then went out. Dean's heart monitor squealed in a monotone for a few seconds before the backup power kicked in and the steady beeping started up again. Sam's hand moved to his jeans, brushing over the smooth metal of his gun. He moved slowly to Dean's side, placing one hand on top of his brothers'.

"S'okay, Dean, I've gotcha," he muttered.

Dean's features jerked in a small wince and a small tremble ran through him. Sam wet his lips anxiously, his hand tightening on his gun.

_Its nothing. Bad fuse, power cut. Nothing Supernatural. Everything - is - fine._

The green glow from the flashing heart monitor created an eerie half light in the darkness. Sam hovered anxiously, suddenly reluctant to leave his brothers side not just because he wanted to protect him but also because the old habit of Dean protecting _him _still hung over him like a storm cloud. Right now, with no one around him he was sure he could trust, with no idea what was 'coming' for them, all he wanted to do was hide behind his brother.

But he couldn't. He had to be the strong one now.

So, his heart thudding wildly, he pulled out the gun and fixed his eyes on the door, promising himself that he was ready for anything that came through it.

Yeah, right.

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_I slip in through an open window downstairs and move through the darkness as silent and fast as a shadow. It was almost too easy to cut off the power to the lights. Not that I am not an honourable fighter, but there must be no mistakes._

_The hunter must die._

_I remember the smell of his blood, the smell of the tall one, and my mouth begins to water. Blood from my previous victims drips from my lips and splashes on the floor, tiny rubies in the halflight. My body tenses in preperation, and a low snarl vibrates out from my chest._

_I hear a small gasp from behind me, and whirl around. I growl in fury at myself: my thoughts have distracted me and a young woman stands a few metres behind me in the corridor. Her mouth opens and closes in shock and horror, her eyes widen in fear as she gazes at me. I growl, and she opens her mouth, sucking in the breath to scream..._

_I launch myself forwards and sink my teeth into her soft flesh. The only noise is the quiet 'fwump' as her body falls, twitching and jerking, to the floor._ _Her blood rushes into my mouth and my eyes roll in pleasure, but I tear myself away. There is more important prey here now. I rise and move swiftly away from her bloodied corpse, aware of her sightless eyes on my back as I make for the stairs. As I move out of sight, I hear a shrill, piercing scream from the floor below and make a break for the shadows of the mens toilets nearby. People will come, they can't find me. _

_But it won't be long now._

_I am ready._

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The shrill scream snarled in on Sam's ears and he flinched, his fingers closing tightly over his brother's hand. Dean moaned, but Sam barely heard him. He knew that scream. He had howled it himself more than once. It was the scream of complete and utter terror, of seeing something terrible... something supernatural.

He realized with a small jolt that he was shivering, and pulled himself together as best as he could. Protect Dean. Nothing else mattered. He put the gun behind his back and moved to the door opening it a crack. People were running towards the stairs to see what the fuss was about. Sam would have followed, but there was no way he was going to leave Dean alone. Instead, he noticed a pale nurse breaking free of the scramble and staggering towards him, and called out to her.

"Hey, hey! What's going on?"

She swayed, glancing over at him. "I-I think someone's dead... there's so much blood downstairs... I'm sorry, I have to go..."

Her hand pressed over her mouth, she made for the other end of the corridor. Sam felt his hair standing on end on the back of his neck and retreated back into Dean's room. He moved over to his brother, not removing his eyes from the door, and touched Dean's hand.

It was in the hospital.

And it was coming for him.

**Sorry its taken me a while to update, I've had so much coursework!**

**Please, please review!**

**SUPRNTRAL LVR.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I only own this story, not Supernatural or Sam and Dean!**

_In the last chapter..._

_It was in the hospital._

_And it was coming for him._

_Now..._

Reality sucked.

If he just closed his eyes and pretended like everything was fine, he could almost ignore the horrified chattering of the crowd outside his brother's room.

Almost.

Sam opened his eyes, sighing.

Yup. Reality was, as Dean would say, a bitch.

Sam ran his fingers over the smooth hilt of his gun, vaguely aware of how fast his heart was thundering in his chest. Dean was moving a lot more now, his eyes moving beneath their lids, his body twitching every few moments, but he was nowhere near offering support to his brother. Sam was still holding the fort alone.

Outside, the comotion had died down a little and the nurse's body had been removed, but that didn't make Sam any happier. It was almost as if whatever was hunting Dean was taunting him, leaving the kill as a bold sign that it was on its way.

Reminding him that there was no way out.

Of course, he could always take Dean and get the hell out of town, but he didn't want to make his brother's condition any worse than it already was and he was pretty sure that he wouldn't even make it down the stairs without being noticed when everyone was so terrified and panicky. He had no choice: he had to stay.

Suddenly the door opened and Sam sprang up from his chair, his hand whipping to his gun. It was halfway up to aim before he realized that it was only Dr. Harrison moving into the room, and he managed to slip the gun behind his back before she looked up, startled by his sudden movement.

"Mr. Grimsure? Are you alright?"

"Y-yeah," he managed, clenching his trembling hands. "Fine. You, uh, scared me."

She frowned but chose to let it go, moving instead to Dean's side. She examined the machines, her brow furrowed.

"Your brother is making excellent progress, he's responding just like we hoped he would. We do have a problem here, though: either we can give him more morphine and send him back into a heavy coma for a little longer, or we can allow the morphine to wear off. He may endure a little more pain, but we may also be able to check for long-term damage easier. Its up to you."

Sam swallowed hard. Furious at his own selfish desire to have his brother back talking to him, he lowered his gaze and nodded. "Wake him up, soon as possible."

She nodded and leant towards the machines again. "Right. Well, everything else is going according to plan..."

Sam stopped listening, his mind suddenly whirring.

_Shapeshifters..._

What if it was a shapeshifter? What if it was _her? _His stomach twisting wildly, he strode around the bed and pulled her violently back from the machines, ignoring her gasp of shock. The green light bounced off her smooth, brown eyes. Human eyes. He gazed at her a little longer, and then slowly released her, cursing himself for his own slow wits.

"Mr. Grimsure?"

Sam shook his head, searching for an excuse as he struggled to relax. "Its nothing. I'm just... just worried. About my brother."

Her face cleared. "Oh, of course. Well, I can assure you he's in good hands." She walked towards the door, pausing as she reached it. "Sir, just as a note, the security guard was talking about hearing strange noises in the men's toilets down the corridor. If you could use the lower floor toilets, just until they clear everything up..."

Sam's head had jerked up at the word 'strange' and his eyes greedily sucked in the knowledge. "Okay," he said softly.

Dr. Harrison left the room. Sam looked down at Dean, his heart thumping. Then he squeezed his brother's hand and made for the door.

"You'd tell me to check it out," he murmured, almost to himself. "I'll be back soon, I promise."

The door swung shut behind him, and Dean's only company became the bleeping machines that were monitoring his life.

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"Unngh..."

Dean felt heavy. Very, very heavy. He just wanted to fall back into the nothingness he had come from, that dark, unconscious pit where there was no pain, no thought, no panic... just sleep... but something grabbed him and dragged him back to the surface of the ocean of his mind, refusing to let him rest. Something was beeping insistently beside him, and now that he had noticed it he could not shut it out. He wanted to tell it to shut up, but his lips wouldn't move properly.

"Ungh..."

He winced, realizing that the sound was coming from his own mouth, and pulled at his eyes but they wouldn't budge. He had to open them. Something was wrong...

_Its coming for us..._

Panic lashed into him and he cracked his eyes open. A dull green light filtered through his eyelashes and he groaned, allowing his heavy lids to fall shut again.

_Damn it... gotta warn Sam... see if he's here...  
_

"S'mmn," he began, but his dry throat rasped into nothing and his voice died in it. Scowling at his own weakness, he opened his eyes again and took in flashing green and black beside him, a blue matted duvet, paper-crackling sheets, an empty chair...

An _empty _chair...

Sam wasn't here.

A mixture of emotions flowed through him - hurt, confusion, worry - before he gathered enough brain cells to realize that he was in a hospital. He remembered going to the diner, seeing it, the chase, the motorway, the crash... he remembered Sam's voice. So sam had been here not long ago, but he was gone now...

"S-Sam?" he croaked, managing to get a whole word out.

Not surprisingly, the empty room didn't answer him.

Dean shifted on the bed, and then realized that he couldn't move his arm. He panicked, and then noticed the white plaster and realized that he must have broken it. Great. How was he supposed to protect Sam with only one arm?

Gingerly moving on his one good arm, he levered himself up a little onto his elbow. His head swung wildly and pain throbbed in his temples, black dots dancing before his eyes. Ah, concussions. He swore under his breath, and then pushed himself upright as best he could. And regretted it.

Once the wave of nausea had passed, he sat still and surveyed the room. It was dark, chilly, and there was no Sam. He had to find Sam.

Dean surveyed the floor, frowning. He'd been through enough situations like this to know that if he tried to rush after Sam right now, what with the amount of drugs in his system, he would fall flat on his face and probably pass out from the pain. His sight blurred and he shut his eyes, groaning.

_Great... sonuvabitch..._

He looked around to see if Sam had left his jacket or anything else which had a gun concealed in it, but there was nothing. But where _was _Sam? What was he doing?

_Mobile._

He looked around again, hope rising in his chest. Sure enough, on a table a few paces away from the bed was his mobile and a few other items from his pockets, excluding his weapons. The hope quickly died as Dean realized that it was too far away to reach.

But he didn't have any other choice.

Clenching his jaw as pain speared through his side, he leant forwards as far as he could and stretched out his good arm. He couldn't reach. Dean's eyes narrowed, and he reached out again. Again he missed.

He was helpless. He couldn't even reach his mobile to call for help. He stilled and waited for the pain in his side to dull out. Until Sam came back, he was completely stuck. If Sam came back.

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Sam hated not being able to have his gun ready as he slipped into the toilets, but he couldn't risk anyone seeing it. However, he quickly realized that there was no one in them, and he dragged the large, square bin in the corner across to hold the door shut. He noticed a smell he recognized in the air, but he ignored it. He pulled out his gun and dropped into hunter mode, his ears pricked, his eyes scanning every corner.

He stepped forwards cautiously, leaning into the first cubicle. Empty. As was the next one, and the next one, and...

Sam stopped, his teeth clenching to hold down the nausea that rose up in him.

The man on the floor hadn't been dead long - his face still held some colour and blood was still leaking slowly from the gaping wounds on his slashed torso. His mouth hung open in a silent scream, blood and saliva trickling from the corner. Sam's eyes swept the corner, then he turned and looked around the toliets again. But there was nothing here...

_So it's gone... and I just left Dean alone._

Panic jerked through Sam and he span around to face the door. He had barely taken two strides towards it when it shook. He froze. There was a muffled exclaimation of confusion on the other side, and it shook again. Someone was trying to get in, and when they did get in - the bin wasn't going to hold forever - they were going to find him with a bloody corpse. Sam swallowed hard, then ducked into the cublicle closest to the door and slipped behind its mint-coloured door.

Outside, a steady thumping started up before a grating screech anounced the bin sliding away. Sam listened to the thudding footsteps as two or so men entered the toilets, muttering to each other in confusion. He waited, pushing his gun into his jeans, wetting his lips.

"Holy _shit! _What the-"

They'd found the corpse. Sam took a deep breath and then sprinted out of the cubicle and straight through the door to the toilets, skidding into the corridor in less than a couple of seconds. He ran back towards Dean's room, his blood roaring in his ears.

_Please let him be okay, please, please, please..._

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Dean's body shook under the strain as he reached again for his mobile, agony snarling through his side and arm. Letting out a gasp, he sank back onto the bed and let himself fall back, darkness clouding his vision. After a few moments it slowly ebbed away again and he was left staring up at the ceiling, breathing hard. He turned his head to look at his mobile, so close and just out of reach.

_Sonuvabitch... C'mon, Sammy, where are you?_

Across the room, a small scratching sound came from the door and Dean looked up eagerly. "Sam?" he called, furious at how weak he still sounded. The scratching came again, and Dean felt a chill run down his spine.

_It's not Sam..._

He pushed himself upright again, wincing, and called his brother's name again but still got no response. The scratching paused. Then, slowly, the door inched open a crack, and a glittering silvery eye which caught the green light of the machines appeared in the gap. It swivelled to fix on him, and glinted slightly.

Dean froze.

"Shit," he whispered.

Then, as the monster pushed the door open and stalked into his room, its lips pulling back to reveal long, black fangs, a low snarl vibrating out from its chest, Dean filled his lungs and screamed out as loud as he could.

"SAM!!"

**I feel I should apologize for this chapter because I'm not that happy with how it turned out. Still, hope you enjoyed it, sorry if it was a bit crappy. Sorry for the wait too, we've got a friend staying and aparently going on FanFic is 'anti-social' so I haven't had any time.**

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Please review!  
**

**SUPRNTRAL LVR.  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I only own this story, not Supernatural or Sam and Dean!**

**I'm so sorry that I haven't updated for so long. To anyone who's still even interested in this story - sorry! Real life keeps getting in my way!**

_In the last chapter..._

_As the monster pushed the door open and stalked into his room, its lips pulling back to reveal long, black fangs, a lpw snarl vibrating out from its chest, Dean filled his lungs and screamed out as loud as he could._

_"SAM!!"_

_Now..._

Sam pounded down the corridor, the gun clutched tightly in one hand, not even bothering to hide it anymore. He was halfway down it when he heard Dean's call, and his heart leapt in his chest. His brother had never sounded that panicked before.

"DEAN!" he yelled back, pushing himself faster. "Dean, I'm coming!"

He skidded to a halt outside his brother's room, his trainers leaving two long grey marks on the floor, and threw himself inside. The first thing he saw was Dean, thrown back against the headrest of his room, the machines around him going haywire, his face twisted in pain and fear. Then he took in the horrible, blotchy red and grey skinned creature clawing at his brother, its jaws gaping wide to reveal huge black fangs, its clawed hands swiping out. It looked almost human, but for something so thin and weak-looking it was shocking that it could have overpowered Dean Winchester. Its face was twisted in demonic evil, fire burning in the depths of its eyes. It was so disgusting that Sam stood frozen for a second.

Just a second.

Then he sprinted forwards and threw himself at the monster, shouting to Dean to duck. His momentum carried both he and the monster tumbling to the floor with a hard, painful crash. The thing screeched and grabbed Sam with both hands, digging its claws into his ribs and causing him to cry out in pain. Before he could recover, its head jerked forwards fast as a striking snake and it drove its gaping red mouth and its black fangs into his shoulder. Sam couldn't even scream: the agony that shot through him was so strong that he was frozen.

"Sammy!"

He heard the choking gasp mere seconds before the echoing _blam! _of a gun sent the creature cringing away from him, shrieking. Released, he scrambled to his knees and swayed, gulping down air, gripping his shoulder. He looked up to see Dean crouched on the bed with Sam's gun - he must have dropped it as he tackled the... thing - his brother's face white with shock and strain.

"Dean," Sam panted, heaving himself to his feet and staggering to his brother's side. "Dean, are you okay?"

The gun slipped from Dean's fingers and he nodded shakily, dropping back onto the bed. The fact that he hadn't said anything made Sam more worried than any of Dean's disgruntled 'I'm fine's' ever could have.

A snarl wrenched through the room and Sam turned, reaching for the gun. The creature was already on its feet, its fangs bared, blood pumping from its side where Dean had shot it. Sam lifted the gun, and the thing streaked out of the room, letting out a muffled yowl. Sam followed it to the door, but when he looked into the corridor it was gone. Instead of tracking it down, he shoved the gun into his belt, slammed the door shut and turned back to face his brother. With a jolt he realized that Dean had let himself fall back against the headrest, his eyes tightly shut, his breaths coming hard and fast. Sam leapt to his brother's side, grabbing his hand, words spilling from his mouth like a waterfall.

"Dean! Dean, god, I'm so sorry I didn't know, I thought it was in the toilets... jesus, Dean... Dean, say something, please."

Dean's lips parted and Sam listened intently, desperate not to miss his brother's first few words to him.

"I... w-want... s-s-some... drugs," Dean gasped weakly.

Sam could almost have laughed. Dean had just been attacked by a nameless monster, and he was already demanding drugs. Nodding, he raced back to the door and threw it open. Nurses who had been attracted by the comotion were standing nearby, and Sam yelled out to them that his brother needed some painkillers. He ducked back inside the room without waiting for a response and moved back to Dean's side.

"Dean? What the hell was it? What happened to you?"

Dean fought his eyes open and struggled to focus on his little brother's anxious face. "A D-Drow... exiled e-elves... th-thought they w-w-er-r extin-nct... on-once it gets y-your scent... its f-for l-life..."

Dean's eyes began to close, and Sam let out a yell of panic. He turned towards the door. "For fucks sake, move it!" he roared. He turned back to Dean.

"Dean, hold on. Hold on, you hear me?

Dean?

Dean!"

**Okay, I'm so sorry this chapter was so short. You guys deserve so much more. I'll put more up next time but for now this is the most I can come up with!**

**Please review... please!**

**SUPRNTRAL LVR.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I only own this story, not Supernatural or Sam and Dean!**

**I am so, so sorry for stopping this story for a while. I go by a rule that once I start a story I finish it, no matter how crap it is, but recently I've been so busy that I've been neglecting this fic. I promise that I WILL finish it soon, and am so sorry for just leaving you guys hanging.**

Sam's eyes felt as if they were drying out from the inside. He lifted two fingers and rubbed them into his skull wearily before returning his gaze to the blaring, unmerciful screen of his laptop. He gazed blankly at the words flickering on the screen, struggling to turn them into some kind of meaning in his head. It wasn't working. Sam jumped as his mobile rang, causing the wound in his shoulder to throb painfully. A nurse had bandaged it for him and tried to get him to take some medication but he couldn't risk having his senses dulled now. He slowed down, reaching slowly for his mobile so as not to aggrivate the wound any more and pulled it out of his jacket pocket, flicking it open.

"Hullo."

His voice sounded dead and flat even to his own ears.

"Hey, Sam," Bobby's gruff voice replied. "How're you holding up?"

Sam swallowed hard. "M'fine. Tell me you've found something."

After searching through every supernatural folklore website he knew and finding a big fat steaming pile of nothing, Sam had called Bobby for help. The fact that Bobby had never heard of the so called Drow wasn't exactly comforting, but Dean wasn't often wrong. Right now, Dean was unconscious on the bed, an IV pumping painkillers into his bloodstream. Sam had been told that they would keep Dean groggy but he didn't care, as long as his brother wasn't in pain.

"Its a variant form of the Scottish term 'Trow' which shares a common origin with the Scandinavian troll. From what I can find it is part of Scottish folklore, but I can't find much else about it."

Sam groaned. "Oh, please, Bobby, we have to find out how to kill it."

"I know, boy, give me a little more time."

Sam looked at Dean, running his tongue over his lips. "I don't know if we _have _time anymore, Bobby."

He heard Bobby sigh.

"Hang in there, Sam, I call again later."

Bobby hung up. Sam lowered his mobile and looked again at his laptop screen. He had tried contacting the few hunters they knew for help but hardly any had replied, and those who had simply told him that they knew a Drow was an evil elf. He knew next to nothing about elves, and didn't really like to linger on the subject because whenever he thought of the word all he could see was a little man in green tights dancing around and clapping his hands to folk music. He had also tried his Dad's journal, thinking that if Dean had encountered a Drow in the past there would be some kind of information in there. No such luck.

Sam closed down the website had been looking at and opened up Google, starting again from scratch. Once again, all he got was a reel of World of Warcraft instrucions and discriptions - apparently the game had thought of its own version of the Supernatural. The creature seemed to be sensitive to human weapons - the gun had wounded it, after all - but afterwards it had still managed to run away, meaning that it must heal fast. Sam let his head fall back, scowling. He had no choice - all he could do was wait for Dean to wake up. Until then... they were both at the mercy of this monster.

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_I lie in the shadows of the supply cupboard, panting hard. The wound I had recieved from the Stick that Spits Hard is still throbbing but is almost gone. Once it is completely healed, I promise myself that I will return. They will not get away with this... I snarl in anger as I remember how they shamed me with their strange weapons. I should have seen it coming, but I had allowed myself to sink into the ecstacy of feeding from the taller human. He had tasted so good... so good that even now as I remember it my mouth begins to water and saliva drips from my fangs. I realize that while I have been remembering his taste I have been creeping towards the door, and snatch myself back, snarling angrily._

_I must wait._

_It doesn't matter how much I want them, but I have to wait. Wait until they split up once more, or I can catch them off guard and finish one before the other can come to assist. The shorter man will not give much of a fight - I would have killed him before had his compainion not interrupted me. The taller one will be more of a challenge... but maybe I have weakened him from our last fight, and he will not recover as fast as I._

_I look down at myself. The wound is slowly shrinking. Maybe an hour or so more._

_Then I will have them._

_And this time, I will not fail._

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Sam jerked awake and then swore loudly as his shoulder screamed in agony. He lifted a hand to it, cursing again but this time at himself for falling asleep. However, checking his mobile he saw that he had no new messages or calls so he had not missed anything. And Dean was still right next to him. He wondered briefly what had awoken him in the first place...

Dean moaned weakly.

Sam leapt to his feet, knocking his chair backwards in the process, and his shoulder stung once more. He ignored it and bent over his brother, gripping him by the shoulders.

"Dean? Dean, give me something man, please, _please, _don't make me beg you..."

"Shuddup, ya sound like a girl," Dean mumbled.

Sam felt tears of relief pricking his eyes and his hands flew to his head. He laughed giddily, so happy that for a few moments he couldn't speak. "Dean... Dean, thank god..."

Dean's eyes cracked open and he focused with some trouble on his brother. He winced. "Yup, ya still ugly... that sonuvabitch's handiwork didn't help at all..."

Sam didn't even make a comeback. He would have hugged Dean, but knew that he would probably cause his brother pain so he grabbed his hand instead. Dean squeezed his fingers weakly, forcing a small smile.

"Don't worry, Sam, m'fine."

His eyes closed again. A whirl of surprise rushed through Sam and he shook Dean.

"Hey, no, come on man. I need you to talk to me."

Dean frowned without opening his eyes.

"Bout... what?" he forced out.

"This Drow, I need to know how to kill it."

Dean opened his eyes and looked up at Sam, fear rushing into his face as he remembered that the creature was still at large. "The Drow..."

"Yes, Dean, and you have to tell me what to do right now. Dean!"

Dean shook his head slightly and nodded. "Okay... uh... you gotta get the branch of an oak tree... make a stake..."

His voice was fading. Sam gripped him by the shoulders once more, pulling him back to the present.

"Dean?"

"Stake," Dean repeated. "Get the stake and... purify... holy water... and purifying ritual..."

"Which one?"

"C-Christian..."

"Is that everything?"

Dean nodded, a tiny jerk of his head. "Sam, m'head..."

"Okay," Sam said, relaxing. He had what he needed. "Okay, thanks Dean. I'll take care of everything."

"N-no, Sam, you don't understand!" Dean gasped, his eyes flying open.

Sam put a calming hand on his arm, reaching out to press the button for the nurse with his other one. "Its okay, I get it. Get the branch of an oak tree and make it into a stake, then purify it with a christian ritual and holy water. I understand."

"Its too smart it'll know... Sam you gotta be careful..." Sweat was standing out on Dean's head as he struggled to stay conscious. At that moment the door opened and a nurse moved into the room and over to Dean's side.

"You okay, honey? Feeling any pain?"

"N-no, m'fine..."

"He's still feeling it, yeah," Sam said softly.

"Alright, well we'll give you a little more morphine then. Sir," she added, turning to Sam as she readied the needle, "He may experience feelings of paranoia or panic attacks considering what he's been through with the accident and everything. Just keep him calm and call for someone if he has an attack."

Sam nodded. "I can do that."

"S'm, please don't go after it al-alone," Dean rasped, clutching at Sam's sleeve. "Its too strong... Sam, pr-promise me..."

Sam avoided his brother's gaze. "Its okay, Dean, just go to sleep."

And as the morphine worked its way through the older Winchester's bloodstream his eyes rolled back into his head and he slipped into unconsciousness once more. Sam gently pulled his hand away and picked up his mobile.

"Bobby? Yeah, I need you to find out where the nearest carpentry store is. Now."

**Dun-dun-dah! What will happen now? Again, I'm so sorry for the huge wait and I will pick it up now! Please review!**

**SUPRNTRAL LVR.**

Drow


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I only own this story, not Supernatural or Sam and Dean!**

_I lift my head as a rich smell hits me. No... it can't be... I push the door open a crack and peer out just in time to see the tall man pass my hiding place. On instinct I move after him, keeping to the shadows. He goes down to the bottom floor and moves out of the building. I watch, unable to believe it. He has left the shorter man's side... I turn to move into the building, but then stop. This could be a trap. He could be planning an ambush. Instead, I follow him down to the road where he stops to hail a taxi. I could take him now... I curl my lips back from my fangs and prepare to jump, but then a taxi stops beside him and he gets in, out of reach. I snarl in anger. Then, fighting it down, I move after the car, quickening my pace to a sprint._

_With the taller man out of the way, everything will be easier. The shorter man will not survive alone._

_And I am hungry for blood once more._

* * *

Sam turned the chair leg over in his hands, frowning.

"And this is real oak?"

"Yes, sir."

Sam nodded. "Okay. How much for it?"

He paid the man and then moved out of the shop, beginning to walk back to the motel he and Dean had been staying at. He could sharpen the leg into a stake easily, and then all he needed to do was bless some water and purify it. And then he would be ready. He didn't want to leave Dean alone for too long, so he planned to return to the hospital by that evening. That would give him more than enough time to do everything that was required.

The cool autumn air brushed at his face as he turned onto the road leading to the motel. It was deserted, a petrol station on one side and an open feild on the other, maybe for school use or something. Sam shivered and pushed his free hand into his pocket, brushing his mobile with his fingertips. He doubted that Dean would be awake, and so calling him would result in nothing but a nice understanding answering machine, but Sam still longed to hear his brother's voice. More than that, he wanted to hear Dean when Dean wasn't forcing words out through pain-stiffened lips.

A low snarl reached his ears, pulling him from his thoughts, and he stopped. He looked around, his eyes scanning the shadows about him, but he couldn't see anything. Still, his hand moved to the gun in the waistband of his jeans. He curled his fingers around its smooth metal hilt, his eyes still flickering from side to side.

"Hello?" he called softly.

No reply. Nothing could be heard but the soft breathing of the wind through the trees. Sam hesitated, and then slowly released his gun and continued on his way. He was just being paranoid. He was halfway down the road by now, and level with the petrol station on the other side. He paused, and then moved over to it. When he had been little and had wound up in hospital with a broken arm or leg, Dean had always found a way to get him a chocolate bar. It was about time Sam returned the favour. As he strode past the gas pumps, he wondered again why the place was so quiet. It was the middle of the day - maybe everyone was at work. But there should be shop assistants around...

The automatic double doors slid open to let him inside and he stepped into the shop. Almost at once, the hairs on the back of his neck rose. The silence was so thick that he could have carved his name in it with the wooden chair leg in his hand. Sam hesitated in the doorway, unwilling to go any further. There wasn't even anyone at the counter, or stacking the shelves, or reading the porn magazines when they thought no one was watching. Nothing moved. Sam cleared his throat, wondering if they were simply out of sight, but nothing happened.

Steeling himself, he took a small step into the shop. He should have known to turn back then, should have known that his instincts never led him wrong. But instead, he forced himself to believe that nothing bad was going to happen, that he was just being stupid...

He saw the glossy pool of blood on the floor before he finally laid eye on the shop assistant, who lay on his back behind the magazine shelves, his mouth open in a silent scream, his chest clawed to ribbons. Sam flinched backwards, letting out a small cry of horror, and his hand flew to his gun. Flicking his head to the side, he caught sight of a second pool of blood spreading from behind the counter.

_Oh god..._

Had he really heard it outside? Had it killed them just moments ago? Crouching down, he touched the dead assistant's cheek. It was still warm. Shuddering in disgust, Sam turned and made for the door. Jaws snapped behind him and he tried to turn around, but he was too slow. Strong arms locked around his legs and pulled - he crashed to the ground, the chair leg spinning away from him and his gun skittering across the floor. He rolled onto his back, lashing out in panic with both legs, and caught the Drow in the face. It shrank back, shrieking, giving him a clear view of its black fangs dripping with the blood of its victims. A sudden anger rushed through Sam, but he restrained himself. He couldn't kill it, and fighting it now unarmed was madness. Instead, he scrambled to his feet and made a grab for the chair leg.

The Drow rushed at him, jumping and locking its arms and legs around his torso. His shoulder screamed with pain from the earlier wound and he yelped, struggling wildly against it as it clung to his back. One grey-skinned hand grabbed at his face, clawing across his cheek and leaving four long scratches. Sam hurled himself desperately at the wall, slamming his back against it, and the Drow let go. Panting, Sam staggered away from it. His eyes lit on his gun on the ground near the chocolate bars and he hurled himself at it. He snatched it up and turned, backing into the racks of sweets so that they tumbled off the shelves around him. The Drow started forwards, but he aimed the gun at it and it froze. A flicker of recognition shone in its eyes as it looked at the weapon. Maybe it remembered the wound it had recieved earlier, although no trace of it remained on its dry, scabby skin.

They stood, neither daring to make a move, neither daring to back down. Sam cast his eyes around the room for a fraction of a second and caught sight of the chair leg lying near the doors. He wet his lips, feeling sweat standing out on his back and forehead. If he was fast, if he just ran, maybe he could make it out... the Drow glared at him, shifting its weight from one side to the other, as if readying itself for attack. Sam swallowed hard.

_One... Two... Now!_

He fired and the Drow flinched away, shrieking. Not even looking to see if he had hit it, Sam launched himself towards the doors. He scooped up the chair leg and sprinted out through them, the furious howls of the Drow ringing in his ears. He didn't look back to see if it was following, he just ran.

He sprinted down the road and turned the corner, the motel coming into sight. He scrabbled in his pocket for the keys so that by the time he skidded to a halt outside his room he was already trying to stuff them into the lock. The door clicked open and Sam ducked inside, slamming it and locking it behind him. He pressed himself against it, the chair leg rolling away as he let it fall. His own panting was the only sound in the silence. His eyes flickered to the one small window, but it was already shut and locked.

The door shook slightly, and a low snarl errupted from the silence on the other side. Sam braced himself against the door, trembling, but there was no other attack. After about a minute of tense waiting, he slowly left the door and crossed to the window. He peered out, gun ready. He couldn't see it, but he was certain that it was simply waiting for him to come out again. And he couldn't hide forever...

Sam passed a hand over his face, shutting his eyes in despair. He was trapped.

**This one was a bit short, but I didn't have much time. See you in the next chapter! Please review!**

**SUPRNTRAL LVR.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I only own this story, not Supernatural or Sam and Dean!**

Sam lifted the sharpened stake and then threw down his knife, satisfied. He reached for the bottle of holy water in his pocket, glancing down at the ritual in his dad's journal. He blessed the stake and purified it within a few minutes. He was ready. He laid down the stake and moved over to the window, glancing out into the gathering darkness. He still couldn't see anything, but he wasn't stupid enough to assume that that meant that the Drow had left. But then, if it wasn't still there, it had gone to the hospital and that was bad news on its own. He had to get back to Dean and protect him as soon as he could... as if on cue, his mobile rang. He snatched it up, his nerves instantly on edge.

"Sam?" Dean said hoarsely.

"Dean, you're awake," Sam said, moving away from the window. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm okay. Where are you?"

"I'm back at the motel, getting the stake ready. I'm all done, I think I can take this thing on."

"What? No! No, Sam, please don't go after it alone. Its too strong!"

"Dean, I can handle it. Don't worry about me."

"Sam please, just _please _don't do this. I'll come and help you-"

"No, Dean, you're not strong enough. Just calm down, I can do this one on my own."

"You don't understand. You haven't dealt with something like this before. It doesn't seem like much but its worse than a werewolf, vampire and wendigo slapped together. Just stay clear of it and come back here so we can sort this out, okay?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Okay, Dean. I'll be right there. Is there anything else you can remember about this Drow?"

"There's nothing else to know. It barely has any weaknesses, that's why its so hard to kill."

Sam closed his eyes in despair. He did his best to keep his tone bright. "Okay. Fine. See you."

He shut off his mobile and sat down on the bed, putting his head in his hands. How was he going to get there with a Drow stalking him? He needed a car, but he couldn't drive the Impala and there wasn't another one... wait. He moved to the window again. There were three other cars outside, and no people. Sam felt a smile spreading over his face. He could do this.

If this motel room had a back window, he could do this.

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_The soft smell of dew fills my nose as I crouch beside the building. I inhale deeply, clenching my fists in the leaf debrie below me. The tall man still hasn't emerged from his room. But he cannot stay inside there forever, and if he does then I will return to the hospital._

_Without his companion, the shorter man will be helpless._

_Maybe I should just leave now._

_I turn away from the building and begin to move towards the road, my mouth watering as I think of his blood. I cannot wait to taste it again, to feel it on my tongue... the wind changes, and I freeze. I can smell the taller man... unable to believe it, I turn and race back through the darkness. He is coming closer, closer, I can smell his blood fresh in the air... I leap from the shadows, my mouth opening in a snarl of triumph._

_My jaws close on soft, limp fabric. I stop, confused, the shirt hanging from my jaws... empty. I let it fall and look down at it. Blood stains the fabric on the sleeve, blood still filling my nostrils. I kick it away and sniff again. And suddenly, I smell the real man. Furious at the trickery, I sprint around the building and emerge into the parking lot. He is struggling with a car door, slipping a wire down into the lock. He turns and sees me, and I let out a roar of anger as I start towards him. He panics and tears at the door, finally getting it open. I launch myself towards it - too late. I slam against hard glass and metal. I scream in fury and tear at the car, but already the engine is rumbling into life. It pulls away and I am thrown backwards. I scream once more, but the car is already tearing away. I stand, panting hard, unable to believe that I have been foiled._

_I will kill them both for this._

**Sorry this chapter is so short, hope you enjoyed it anyway! Please review!**

**SUPRNTRAL LVR.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I only own this story, not Supernatural or Sam and Dean!**

Sam ran into the hospital and sprinted up the stairs, ignoring the curious glances he drew from the people he passed. It was only when he reached the floor Dean was on that he slowed down, his heart throbbing with panic as well as exertion. He paused as he reached Dean's room, taking a final look around. He was sure that the Drew had not reached the hospital yet, but he was also sure that it would only be a matter of time before it arrived. It was furious that he had escaped, and he was worried that it would take out that anger on his brother. Once he had steadied his breathing and convinced himself that the Drow was not lurking in the shadows of the corridors, Sam ducked into Dean's room and headed towards his brother's bed, dumping the bag with the stake and their father's journal in it on the chair he usually sat in.

Dean looked amazingly peaceful, his eyes closed, a small smile pricking the corners of his mouth as if he were remembering happier times. He was still pale, and deep blue blurs darkened his eyes, but he looked more rested and calm than he had in weeks. No, _months... _it pained Sam to disturb him, but he didn't want Dean unalert when the Drow finally made an appearance. Besides, Dean's mobile was clasped in his hand; it was clear that he wanted to be awakened as soon as anything of importance happened. Sam moved to his side and gently shook Dean's uninjured arm.

"Dean? Wake up. Its me, Sam."

Dean groaned in his sleep, unconsciously turning his head away from him as if he were a child being told to get up for school. Sam paused, and then shook him again, desperate not to move him too much and hurt him.

"Dean!" he hissed again. "Dean, come on, wake up for me."

Dean's eyes blearily flickered open, glazed with painkillers. He focused on his brother and blinked slowly. Sam cursed under his breath - the nurses must have given him more drugs and dulled him down. No doubt finding him with a mobile in an ICU unit wouldn't have helped his cause much. When the Drow arrived, Sam was sure Dean would find it hard to defend himself. Sam would have to protect him, maybe get him out of the room so that when the Drow came it would only find himself...

"Hey, Dean," Sam said, leaning over Dean. He waited for his brother's eyes to connect with his before he continued. "I need you to wake up for me, man. I think that the Drow might be coming back."

That woke him up a little. Dean's eyes sharpened and he pushed himself up a little. Sam held him steady with one hand and with the other pulled one of his pillows up for Dean to lean against. He gently helped Dean to ease back against it, biting his lip as his brother's hands fumbled. Dean was next to helpless. Sam leant against the bed, keeping one hand on Dean's shoulder.

"Dean, listen to me. I've got the stake ready, and I've brought dad's journal along too, but you have to get out of here, okay? I really don't think you're up to this now, and you can't get hurt any worse."

Dean screwed his eyes shut, as if trying to gather his thoughts. "S-Sam... ya can't... do it alone..."

"Yeah, well, you're not exactly going to help are you?"

"S-Sam..."

"No, Dean, not this time," Sam replied brusquely. "I'm not going to let you kill yourself over this. I can do it. Now, we're going to get you out of here maybe to another room or something."

Dean shook his head, but Sam ignored him. He pulled back the covers of the bed and took Dean's uninjured arm, pulling him upright. Dean winced and fell back heavily, unable to support himself.

"Damn it," Sam muttered, feeling sweat breaking out on his forehead. "Dean, you have to try..."

His voice trailed off. He knew that Dean _was _trying as best he could, but his body just couldn't take it. After all the pain his body was finally giving in to rest, and the drugs were making it more than difficult for him to let go. Sam let go of him and ran his hands through his hair, panic rising in his chest.

_What am I meant to do? What the Hell am I meant to DO?_

He chewed on his lip for a few moments, and then turned and strode to the door. He shut it tightly and put the chair against it, leaving the bag on Dean's bed so that he could reach it quickly. He put both hands against the door, closing his eyes. He just had to keep it shut and then everything would be fine. He could still save Dean. A soft scratching sound came from behind him and he froze, his heart jerking in his chest. The door wasn't the only entrance to the room.

_There's a window here... how could I be so stupid?_

Sam span around just in time to see two glaring eyes locking with his. Black jaws opened wide in a snarl of fury. Cold moonlight bounced off dry, scabby skin. Sam opened his mouth in horror.

"Dean-"

He got no further. The window shattered into shards as the Drow hurled itself through and onto the floor, screaming as the glass dug into its skin. It turned and launched itself at Sam, who ducked just in time and made a dive for the bed. His hands closed over the bag and he thrust one into it. He barely had time for his fingertips to brush the wood before the Drow had turned and attacked once more, clasping one hand on his injured shoulder and digging its bony fingers in deeply. He let out a scream of pain and darkness rose up over his vision. He felt the floor against his back, felt the pain as the Drow scrambled over him and dug its claws into him.

"Dean g-go!" he yelped before another wave of agony rolled over him and he let out a second scream.

He forced his eyes open and found himself staring up at the Drow, its face contorted into a scowl of fury. It snarled and snapped at him but he jerked to the side, gasping as its palm drove into his shoulder wound. Its jaws drew closer to his face and he shut his eyes, gagging as its rancid breath invaded his lungs. He clenched his jaw and waited for the end.

_God, I hope Dean got out okay..._

It was then that the Drow let out an unearthly howl and arched away from him. Sam's eyes snapped open and he looked up to see the Drow coiled away, blood dripping from its gaping jaws, the soaked tip of the purified stake protuding from its chest. Sam's eyes lifted. Dean stood over the Drow, his hand curled around the hilt of the stake, his whole frame trembling from the effort he had put into the blow. But his mouth was set in a hard, straight line and his eyes glittered with revenge as he glared down at the creature.

"No one," he growled. "Touches my brother."

He released the stake and kicked the Drow hard in the side, sending it tumbling over onto the floor. Sam scrambled back and away from the dying monster, still struggling to breathe normally. He rose to his feet, shaking, and moved to Dean's side. Together they looked down at their hunt.

"You okay, Sammy?" Dean mumbled.

Sam put a hand on his brother's arm, and Dean leant into him. "Y-Yeah," he said breathlessly. "Yeah... I'm okay."

Dean trembled and Sam pulled him over to the bed and sat him down on it. Dean's eyes were already glazing once more with pain, his head drooping slightly as he fought to keep awareness. Sam put a hand to his shoulder where he could feel blood pumping from the wound, already beginning to feel light-headed. He cast one last glance at the Drow, which had ceased moving.

"Its okay," he whispered again.

"I know," Dean breathed. "Its... its over."

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_The jerks and spasms of my body gently came to a stop, and I found myself lying on the cold ground half in and half out of death. I could feel coldness spreading over me, wrapping me in its freezing embrace. The foul taste of my own blood filled my mouth, so unbearably sour that I could hardly breathe. Agony wrenched through my body with every gurgling gasp I took. I forced my eyes open and looked up at the two men, who had moved away from me. The tall one still hadn't released his hold on the other, and the look of pure relief and love on his face was so strong that it made me feel sick. I tried to heave myself away from him, but my body would no longer obey me. My eyes were closing against my own will._

_My greed had brought on my own end._

_In my last glimpse of life before the darkness dragged me away, I looked at them again. Two hunters. Two great hunters. I had never really had a chance..._

_No. NO. I would not admit it. I would not..._

_I... wouldn... not..._

_I..._

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Sam tilted his head back and soaked up the warmth of the sun on his face. He shut his eyes, allowing a smile to widen on his face and pushed his hands into his pockets.

"Practicing for your modelling agency, Sammy?"

Sam grinned and opened his eyes, turning his head to look at Dean as his brother sauntered out of the hospital doors as best he could with a crutch under one arm. He pushed away from the Impala as Dean reached them and looked down at the car, his eyes shining. He ran his hand over the glossy black, sighing.

"Oh, baby, I've missed you so much..."

"Want a minute with the car, Dean?"

Dean ignored him. "I didn't think I'd ever see her whole again. They did her up well... oh, god, she's beautiful..."

"Dean, seriously," Sam said, raising his voice.

Dean looked up. "Okay, okay, lets go."

"Okay. But remember, I'm driving."

Dean scowled. "I could drive," he muttered.

"Maybe, but you won't."

Sam moved around to the driver's side of the car and slipped in, waiting paitently for Dean to sort himself out. It had been days since the Drow's death, and the hospital was finally prepared to let them go. Not that they would be hunting. After Sam had called Bobby back and told him everything that had happened, the older hunter had told them - not asked them, told them - to come and stay with him for a while.

Sam slid the Impala into gear and reversed away from the hospital. Dean let out a small cheer as they left its parking lot, and Sam grinned.

"Out and onwards, huh Sammy?" Dean asked, thumping the dashboard and reaching for the tape player. "We are _outta _here!"

Sam couldn't help but laugh along with him as Metallica thumped out through the car, and leant back in his seat. Everything was okay. Well, until the next hunt.

**All together now - awww! Nice fluffy ending, hoped you guys liked it! Please please review - hope it worked alright!**

**SUPRNTRAL LVR.**


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